


Village of Sorrow

by Scribe_of_Erebor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarves In Exile, Family Drama, Gen, ergot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe_of_Erebor/pseuds/Scribe_of_Erebor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Durin's Folk struggle along the road from the east to Ered Luin, they discover not all hazards come from dragons or Mordor.  A tiny plant threatens the life of one of the Line of Durin, and they might never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Village of Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Village of Sorrow

“Mama! You go too fast!”

Kili’s whine made the dwarrowdam in front of him pause to regard the tiny dwarfling with a sorrowful half-smile.

“I am sorry, little love. Come on.”

A hand was held out as the little boy pumped short, stubby legs harder, both of his tiny feet easily fitting within one of the boot prints of the adults he struggled to follow. As he drew even with his mother, she ruffled his wild hair, making him duck a bit as his older brother, a mature eleven, huffed in annoyance at the delay. The boy waited until his mother was walking again before peering around her leg to make a face at the blonde, who simply rolled his eyes and lengthened his step, knowing the smaller child would be left foundering once more.

Fíli had not been the most patient dwarf lately, constantly chiding his sibling when Kíli bounced about in the evenings, tugging at the older boy to play, or asking one of the hundreds of questions that swirled in his head as they walked. To Kíli, this was hardly fair, as it wasn’t his fault Mama and Father said he was too little to keep up walking all day! Instead, he had to sit perched on top of a smelly old antelope full of bulging bags, hardly a comfortable or exciting day for a six year old! 

He would much rather be free to explore the fascinating new world opening up before him with every mile that the refugees slowly moved west. Could he help it that the only time he was free to do so was at night, when the other members of his little family were all collapsed around the fire being boring grumpy lumps?

Kíli had lived his whole life in the tents on the grasslands of the east, where summer was an unrelenting dry heat punctuated by fierce thunder storms that threatened to tumble dwarf and temporary home alike across the landscape. He wasn’t even allowed to venture out of the perimeter of the camp, no matter how great the tall grasses would work for hide and find, as the great cats with golden fur were better at hiding there than any dwarfling. Fortunately, they were only around in the summer, preferring the weather to the south the rest of the year. That hardly made winter any better, in Kili’s view, since the winds would bite through layers of clothing so thick the dwarfling could barely walk, and whipped around what little snow there was into piles against the tent walls. 

That was also when many more dwarves would become sick, a time Kíli dreaded. They would go away, and never come back, being laid beneath the hard earth, where no dwarrow was ever supposed to be. Just the thought of the dark, cold ground made Kíli shudder and cry in the night when he woke thinking he was alone under one of those hills. Mama had almost gone there last winter, after the babe was born too early, a little sister who had not lived long enough to receive a name of her own at her first year celebration. Father had been away, then, too, and Uncle Thorin had taken her to be put under the rocks they brought from far away, no matter how Kíli had yelled and cried that she was too little to be left all alone like that.  
The dwarfling was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see the root sticking out of the ground until his foot was caught by it, sending him sprawling with a wail. Tears sprung instantly to his eyes, and he didn’t bother trying to hide them, even if Fíli would scoff at him for it. That had hurt! Suddenly, hands were swinging him up into the air and onto his Father’s shoulder, and he quickly grabbed onto the thick golden braids to steady himself, still sniffling.

“I think that’s enough walking, don’t you, little squirrel?”

His father’s laugh was gentle, but it still made Kíli scowl, especially when Fíli looked up at him long enough to roll his eyes again. His brother was no fun since this journey had started and he decided he needed to be big and mature and all the other stupid words adults cooed at the blonde as his chest puffed up in pride. Fíli’s desertion not only rankled, it had made Kíli have to seek playmates elsewhere, not an easy thing to do when there were only about forty dwarflings between the ages of fifty and one in the entire clan, and only Fíli, Nori, and Nori’s new baby brother were in their small traveling group!

Of course, for a dwarfling who had never seen trees, or mountains, or swamps, or large ponds before, there were endless distractions around. How did the mountains get snow on their tops when it was winter? And how did the funny little creatures in the ponds make all that noise? What about the grey creatures that chittered in the trees, effortlessly jumping between them? Last week, he had waited until his family was busy, and then scrambled up the nearest tree to try for himself. For one glorious moment, he had been wide-eyed and airborne! But then when he had grabbed a branch, it had broken, even though he had seen one of the little creatures use it only minutes before he did. Falling hadn’t been nearly as much fun, especially when he had landed on Mister Dwalin!

As if reminded by his musings, the wrist he had hurt twinges, bringing a few more tears to streak down his face even as he tried to decide why his father insisted on calling him that funny name. Mister Óin had checked it this morning, tutt-ing over how puffy it still looked, then wrapped it up tight even after Kíli yelled that it itched all the time. Not that he minded being around the older dwarf much, even if he did make him drink yucky stuff. Kíli never got in trouble for yelling when Master Óin was around! 

A few more of his father’s giant strides, and the boy was swung down to stand in the dirt next to his brother, their mother abruptly fussing at him, swatting futilely at the dirt on his breeches where he had tripped. As she bustled away to retrieve a water skin, Kíli tried to dart off, but his brother was quick to snag his wrist, stopping the smaller dwarf before hissing in his ear so that their mother wouldn’t hear.

“You’re the one who wanted to walk, Kíli!”

The brunette promptly stuck his tongue out, as he could think of no other more suitable reply. A clucking tongue and a finger tapped on the top of his head reminded him that his mother may have been out of hearing, but his father wasn’t!  
“Now, what are the rules you are both to follow while we are here?”

The dwarfling screwed up his face, both in concentration, and because Mama had returned with the dreaded wet cloth that she insisted upon using even though he was years past not knowing how to wash his own face. Beside him, Fíli used the rare silence from his sibling to recite the first directive, tone serious and grown-up.

“Do not leave the area around our booth unless with an adult you approve.”

Kíli rolled his eyes and squirmed, not sure what a booth was, but certain that it had to be more boring than exploring a town full of Men! Mama had said they needed money, though, and the only way to get it was to sell some of the crafts made by their people, so here they were. When they were still at the tent city, others had gone off to do such things, sometimes not coming back for a year or more and making Uncle Thorin even grumpier than he usually was.

“Kíli?”

His name was followed by his father’s strong arms swinging him back up until he was face to face with his parent, one eyebrow raised pointedly. He must have missed something again! Frantic not to get scolded, his eyes darted down to Fíli, who discretely held up two fingers than flashed the Iglishmêk sign for rules. The little dwarf brightened, glad that even when Fíli was being all stuffy, he would still look out for his brother!

“Be polite to everyone, even if they’s big and mean and smelly!”

It wasn’t precisely how his parents had said it, but he thought his version covered all the important points, so he grinned at his father, waiting for the praise he was sure was coming. Instead, his father’s face screwed up as if he had just bitten one of those horrible yellow fruits from the far south that they had gotten in trade last year. Before the dwarfling could figure out this mystery, however, he was diverted by his mother doubling over. At first, he thought she was laughing, but then several loud coughs exploded from her and he turned back to his father in alarmed accusation.

“Mama’s sick again!”

He saw the shock on his father’s face and scowled, knowing he was about to get lied to again. It wasn’t fair that adults were allowed to lie to him whenever they wanted, because they thought he wasn’t ‘big enough’ to be told what was truly going on! That had happened a lot last winter, even from Uncle Thorin. His father, though, just grinned, the big one that always made Mama laugh, all teeth in the middle of the bristly yellow beard and mustache braids.

“No, Kíli, she’s not sick. She just inhaled wrong, that’s all.”

Kíli cocked his head, considering that for a moment before remembering an incident several weeks ago, when they had been camped in someplace called the ‘Gap of Row-hand’. He hadn’t liked that forest at all!

“Did you eated a bug?”

The dwarrowdam had straightened back up, and Kíli caught one of her dark braids to bring her attention to him. It also allowed him to watch her face as she answered, the best way he had found to tell if an adult was fibbing to him again. One hand came up to gently untangle his little pudgy hand, bringing it to her mouth to kiss instead.

“Eat. And yes, love, I ate a bug.”

This news, however, did not settle Kili’s anxiety one bit, eyes going round in alarm.

“Mister Dwalin says if you ate-d too many, you’ll turn into one!”

Now he knew his mother was laughing at him, because so were Father and Fíli! It made him give a disgruntled ‘harrumph’, wondering if there was ever going to be a time when adults actually made sense. Obviously, Mister Dwalin had been telling him fibs again! His mother finally straightened, putting a hand on his cheek in an affectionate caress.

“No, love, I won’t be turning into one, you needn’t worry! Now, do you think you can walk the rest of the way? It’s not far.”

Kíli knew the proper answer to that, nodding even though he wasn’t keen on the idea of being around Men when not in the safety of an adult’s arms. Father and Mama had to carry all the items collected from their group of dwarrow to sell, he shouldn’t add to their armloads by insisting. Father set him down with a light swat on the bottom; nothing that hurt, but more a reminder to mind his manners. Fíli promptly grabbed his hand, which made the brunette feel a bit better. Nothing would happen to him as long as his big brother was around, that was simply the bedrock of Kili’s world.

The village was rough, just as all the others they had encountered in Dunland, with log homes and straw thatching the roofs. Kíli wrinkled his nose, catching a whiff of something foul as a woman poked her head and arm out of the door, pitching the contents into the street. Several pigs rushed over to smell at the offerings before turning away in a huff and ambling off to fresher places.

“Fíli?”

“Yes?”

There was a warning in the blonde’s tone that said this had better not be the first in a string of questions.

“Why did she do that? It’s all yucky where people walk now!”

His older brother glanced over to the pile before shaking his head, the beads on the ends of his braids softly clinking together. Kíli was very glad he was not ten yet, and didn’t have to submit to all the brushing and fussing Fíli put up with every morning to have the plaits put in. 

“I don’t know, Kíli. Uncle would make anyone he caught doing something like that clean it up with their hands. Mister Balin says it’s not very healthy, and dwarrow are a lot hardier then Men.”

Kíli decided then and there that he would be very careful to watch where he walked while they were here. The idea of having something like that stuck to his boots was horrid. Two children sitting in a yard caught his attention next, mostly because they seemed to be so sad. They had a little round ball of some kind of brownish material filled with air that they were batting back and forth, but didn’t seem to be taking much interest in a toy Kíli would have been super excited to have! He started to wander toward them, intent on asking if he could play, too, when a tug on his hand stopped him.

“Kíli! Where are you going?”

The little dwarfling pointed at the children, both of whom were probably his age, but towered over him in height.

“I want to see what they’re playing with! Look!”

The last was said with a great deal more excitement as one of the children bounced the thing off an elbow, then his knee, elbow again, and head before sending it flying toward his playmate. That the other boy didn’t seem the least impressed was just plain stupid!

“’Tis a pig’s bladder filled with air, lad. Makes a right wonderful ball, but best you leave those two lads to themselves and stick with us. There’ll be many things to look at in the marketplace.”

The strange voice made Kíli freeze, yanking Fíli to a halt as well, but the other dwarf simply smiled down at the two children, eyes twinkling merrily beneath the funniest looking hat the brunette had ever seen. It was all furry, and had two flaps coming from that sides that turned up like the wings of a bird. Wide-eyed, the child gazed up at him, trying to decide why the dwarf wore it. There was a firm tug on his hand from his brother, but he ignored the older boy, too fascinated by the newcomer. 

“Who are you?”

“Kíli! Come on! Mama and Father are far ahead of us and we’re going to get lost!”

The stranger laughed, showing even, white teeth in a smile that Kíli decided he liked.

“Well, we can’t have that!”

Before Kíli quite knew what was going on, the stranger had scooped him up with another laugh, the boy almost soaring through the air to land upon the dwarf’s shoulder, where that silly hat tickled one ear.

“You’re just a little bit of a thing, aren’t you?” The dwarf laughed, holding out a hand to a distrustful looking Fíli while the other held Kíli securely in place. “Come on, Master Fíli, let’s catch up. I’ve heard all about you two while travelling back from the Blue Mountains with your Papa, Vidri. My name is Bofur.”

“He’s guiding us to our new home, Fíli.” Father added, smiling as he crossed the last few steps to them. “Thank you, Bofur, I’d not noticed them falling behind again. I can take Kíli.”

Kíli clutched at Bofur’s hat, hoping that this new dwarf would refuse. It was fun to be up so high, where he could see more than the shoes and lower legs of all these big people and he wasn’t in danger of being stepped on.

“Naw, Little Bit is no burden, Vidri, and you already have your arms full. Besides, I think you should keep both the boys close while we’re here.”

Why Father glanced around the village with a scowl before agreeing, Kíli had no idea. This place looked like great fun to him, even if the men did walk funny. Come to think of it, maybe this new dwarf would not mind a question or two.

“Mister Baff-fur?”

The dwarf under him giggled in a laugh, reaching up to tickle Kíli in the ribs.

“That’s Bo-fur, Little Bit, and I’m not a mister anything. Not that much older then you! What is it?”

Kíli made a little hum of agreement, trying to decide if he dared to call an adult by just their name, then was abruptly diverted back to his original question. There was a man approaching them who seemed to stagger and cross his legs as he weaved toward them, tilting one way and then to the other.

“Why’s that man walking so funny? Is it because they have such long legs, like the tall bird we saw? How do they not fall down?”

“Well, now, those are so very good questions, lad. Men walk just like we do. I expect that man is walking funny because he drank something that made him sick.”

“Yuck. I won’t drink anything here, then.”

That made his brother snort, and Bofur laugh again. 

“I’d not be too worried about it, lad. You would know if you drank what that one’s been into.”

“And it had better not be for many more years, until your beard is longer than your father’s.”

Mama reached up for him, making a funny face as she swung him down to the dirt next to a flimsy wooden table, where Father was already setting out some of the things they had brought with. To Kili’s eye, the thing looked ready to fall at any moment, and he shook his head, wondering why they would be using a child’s practice piece. He could make a better table than that from the sticks and scrap wood he was allowed to play with!

“Thief! Thief!”

The screech made the little boy flinch, his brother grabbing his hand to pull them both behind the adults. Before Kíli could move, however, other, larger, hands were grabbing him. Fíli’s fingers slipped from his as the dwarflings both screamed, then Mama had wrapped an arm around his middle. The stranger, a woman with scary eyes, had not let go, however, and Kíli squirmed, crying harder.

“Let go of my son!”

“Mine! He is mine! Filthy dwarves, stealing our children and cheating us of our money!”

“Let my brother go!”

The voices of his parents, his brother, and the woman all blended together, scaring the little boy, then the woman let go, and he was swept up close to his mother, her arms squeezing so tight he thought he might not breathe again. He did not pull his face from his mother’s tunic to look, but he could hear the voices of the adults talking over his still sharp cries.

“-so sorry, good Mistress. My wife has been ill-“

“-shouldn’t let her out. We sincerely apologize-“

“Do not allow her near my son again! We have wares, but there are other villages-“

“Shh, it’s all right, love. My little Kíli. It’s all right, Mama has you.”

A kiss was pressed to his temple as she settled onto a seat, gently rocking him. Small hands on his hair let Kíli know that his brother was near, as well, and he slowly calmed under the loving care of his family. 

The rest of the day was as boring as Kíli had feared, but he said nothing, staying so close to the legs of the nearest safe adult that more than once, he was tripped over. None scolded him for it, however, and Father even brought both him and Fíli a bit of sweet treat after their evening meal. It was something he called ‘maple sugar’, and Kíli decided then and there that he would eat almost anything if only it had some of the mouth-watering stuff on it. Evening came, finally, and Father did not even ask if he could walk, instead scooping up the little dwarf and carrying him back through the town. Kíli was almost asleep by that time, but not so groggy that his little ears did not catch the words of his elders.

“We will need to stay one more day, Dis. The big market day is tomorrow, they’re expecting many of the outlying farmers to be here.”

“I know, but I can’t help wishing we could leave right now, Vidri. That woman…”

The mere mention made Kíli shiver, a sick feeling in his stomach. He had not liked that lady at all!

“You could leave the boys in camp with me tomorrow, Lady. My cousin Bifur and I would be happy to watch them.”

Kíli kept his eyes closed tight, hoping that his mother would say yes. Anything would be better than returning to that place!

“I can’t ask that of you, Bofur-“

“Nonsense! Bifur loves to be around children! They accept him the way he is, you know.”

What could that mean? Now Kíli was intrigued and unable to stay still. He squirmed until his father swung him upright and he reached a pleading hand towards his Mama.

“Please, Mama, I won’t do nothing to make them mad! Please don’t make me go back to that stinky place!”

He didn’t know that there were tears in his eyes until his mother took him in her arms, gently wiping them away with a bit of cloth.

“There, love, you won’t have to. You can stay at our camp tomorrow.”

He laid his head on her shoulder, still sniffling even as exhaustion pulled his eyes closed once more. He did not remember her tucking him into his bedroll under the star-filled sky, or hear the soft discussion of the adults. The next thing Kíli was aware of were hands grabbing him, and a smelly cloth pressed to his nose and mouth, making everything fuzzy and his arms and legs too heavy to move.

Part 2

Kíli never fully went to sleep as the arms carried him away from his family, unable to scream or cry out as he wished. A woman’s voice began to croon a strange song that he had never heard before, and the dwarfling blinked heavily, trying to resist the siren call of sleep. This was not his Mama or Father carrying him to bed after a long day of play, too exhausted to keep his eyes open any longer, this was a stranger! Wrong! This was wrong! A single tear rolled down the side of his cheek and he heard the woman gasp.

“Oh! My little love… please don’t cry! Mommy has you now! You’re safe, and you’re going home! Shhh… Just rest, my baby Kalan!”

“Maran!” 

The hiss came from the darkness above Kili’s head, and everything was abruptly very bright and loud. Heavier sobs shook the little boy’s frame as he tried and failed once again to move. More hands were grabbing him, rougher this time, but the woman would not let go. Finally, Kíli was able to make a high pitched scream of pain as his wrist gave a sickening pop as the man tugged at it. Suddenly, he felt even more floaty and dizzy, black spots swimming in his vision, and he knew if he just reached out, he could catch them. 

Then his tummy burped, the burning liquid scorching his throat as it came up. His mouth hung limp and open as it spewed down the man’s clothes and the woman finally won the tug of war for him. She clutched him tight, swinging his limp body up so that his head rested on her shoulder as she rubbed his back, just as Mama did.

“What are you doing with that filthy little creature, Maran? Have you lost what little sense you have left?”

“That’s a fine way to talk about your son, Coreck! It’s not his fault they stole him for their own!” She began to rock back and forth, forcing Kíli to close his eyes as he moaned, the movement threatening to make him sick again. “Shhh, little love, you know Daddy didn’t mean it. Just sleep, now.”

Drugged, emotionally and physically exhausted, and helpless, the little dwarf child did not fight the welcome pull of sleep, certain that morning would bring him back to where he belonged with a tale that would make even Fíli laugh. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were brutally torn away some time later when he again woke to the foul cloth being pressed down over his nose and mouth. Flailing, his tiny hands curled into the coarse fabric of the woman’s tunic only to fall limp once more. The man’s voice was rough and soft in his ear, tickling, but Kíli could not squirm away any longer.

“Can’t have your kin looking everywhere for you, can we? Since Maran is so certain you are her lost Kalan, perhaps you should join him!”

What did that mean? Was he to have a new friend? Kíli lay limp as he was borne out into the night, longing to ask the questions darting through his mind. First, of course, was when he could go back to his brother and parents. He wasn’t allowed out alone at night, that’s when all kinds of mean things could come get a lonely little dwarfling! Didn’t this man know that? He didn’t want a new friend, not if it meant leaving Fíli and getting in trouble with Mama and Father and Uncle Thorin! He was supposed to be good so he could stay with Bofur tomorrow and help him make toys! 

Wind made him shiver, wishing for a warm blanket and the reassuring bulk of his brother curled up next to him. Tears were slowly running from his eyes again. Fíli would call him a baby if he saw, but Kíli didn’t care. He was more scared than he had ever been in his life, even when Mama was so sick! 

Then the man shifted him to hold over just one arm and Kíli stared at the ground below, certain he would fall. Why did men have to be so big? Didn’t they become dizzy and fall down like he did when they went high up the mountain once? A torch flared and Kíli blinked, frowning as he did not see grass anymore, but stone. Uncle Thorin had taken him and Fíli both in his arms the other day, and told them they must not explore any caves they saw around here, no matter what. Mean snakes lived here, and they could make a dwarf fall asleep and never wake up! 

He was laid down, then, on the cold stone, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not make his body move. The man was across from him, straining to move rocks that were piled up in the cave. Kíli frowned, abruptly diverted by trying to figure out why the man was having such a hard time. The stones were not that big, any adult dwarf would easily move them! Maybe the man was sick like the lady and that’s why he huffed and made funny noises. Kíli would have laughed at him if he could, glad he was a sturdy dwarf and not one of these strange Men! Finally, the man returned to him, pulling him up by his hurt wrist, but Kíli could only whine a little, more tears coming.

“Quiet, you little-“

The man did not put him down gently this time. Kíli was flung through the air to land with a wail on the stone, then he heard the one sound every dwarf had been taught to fear, even those who had been born far from their underground halls – falling rock!

*****888*****

Thorin Oakenshield, Prince of Durin and leader of the dwarves of Erebor in exile, stared helplessly at his teary-eyed sister, praying to Mahal that he had not heard correctly.

“What do you mean, Kíli is gone? Surely he simply got out of bed to use the jakes!”

“No!” Dis gave him a hearty thump to his arm, anger making her blue eyes blaze. “I told you Vidri already looked! He and Vili are out circling the camp!”

Thorin blinked, mind finally fully waking as he registered his sister’s level of distress. This was not some minor temper tantrum leading to a little dwarfling sulking behind his chest of belongings again, this was serious! 

“What happened?”

They were a mile or more from the village, so the boy could not have woken and gone exploring there, but perhaps the surrounding wilderness? But Kíli had been afraid of the dark since he was told his baby sister had gone to sleep in the darkness all alone, would he willingly scamper off like that? And what of the odd stories the dwarves who had visited the village today came back with, of men drunk in the middle of the morning and a woman accusing the dwarves of stealing children? Was it simply the same suspicion they were ordinarily greeted with, or was there more going on?

Behind her, a half asleep Balin was murmuring to the little blonde in his lap, trying to get Fíli to stop crying long enough to tell them if he knew anything about where his brother had gone. So far, that had not gone well, the dwarfling now alternating sobs with hiccups as the air he had gulped upset his stomach. Thorin wanted to grab the boy and demand that he stop the useless hysterics, but knew from experience that it would only make the child worse.

The prince-turned-uncrowned king grit his teeth even as he murmured empty reassurances to his distraught little sister. Dis was still so young, too young to be saddled with the cares of motherhood and aiding him in leading their people! She should be carefree and wild, eyes sparkling as she told him of the latest gossip from her friends and laughing when he blushed at the young dwarrowdam’s interest in the prince! Safe, secure, and within Erebor’s mighty walls, not wandering through Dunland on the way to a ruin in the west that they would attempt to make habitable!

“We will find him, Dis, do not-“

“Thorin! There’s tracks leading away from camp, too large to belong to any of us! I think Kili’s been taken!”

His pledge-brother, Dis’ husband Vidri, and Vidri’s older brother, Vili, ducked into the tent the dwarves had set up to give themselves a sheltered area for the ill, faces grim. Dwalin burst in a moment later, followed by several other warriors of their small group, including Dori, Bofur, Bifur, Óin and Glóin. Voices overrode one another, volume escalating as each dwarf tried to be heard over the others, and Thorin heard Fíli begin to wail again.

“Silence!”

His roar received the expected result, even Fíli staring at him white-faced and wide-eyed from where he still clutched Balin’s robes in a death grip. Thorin accepted the sword his shield-brother, Dwalin, handed him, angry eyes meeting those of each dwarf in turn.

“Vidri, Dis, tell us exactly what happened tonight.”

The blonde warrior had his arm wrapped around his wife, muttering to her, but he straightened at Thorin’s order.

“When we arrived at the village, and began to set up, a woman appeared and tried to snatch Kíli away from Dis, yelling that we had stolen her son. Her husband came, then, saying she hadn’t been well, and that he would see that she did not bother us further. We didn’t see her again, Thorin, so I didn’t think anything further of it. Then, when we arrived back at camp, Dis put Kíli and Fíli to bed right away. They were both exhausted, especially Kíli. About half an hour ago, Fíli woke us up. He was hysterical, just repeating Kili’s name over and over. His bedroll is empty, and the footprints outside the camp don’t match any dwarves.”

Thorin nodded, turning his attention to his older sister-son, but Balin put up a hand, stopping the prince short. 

“Let me try, first, Thorin.” The scholar at least had the courtesy not to say he thought the boy’s gruff uncle would only scare him further. “Fíli, lad, can you talk with me? I need to know why you woke your Mum and Papa tonight, can you tell me?”

It was a gentle, coaxing tone that Thorin knew he was incapable of producing right now. He was too angry. The little blonde sniffed, darting a glance at him only to stiffen and Thorin had to hide a wince. He wanted to be an uncle to the child, but he simply did not know how. 

“Uh huh. I kept having nightmares about the people and the funny smell in the village, and my tummy was upset, so I wasn’t really sleeping. I was just about to get up and pee when smell came over us, and my head started to feel funny. I tried to yell, but the shadow monster hit my head with a rock and took Kíli!”

“Shadow monster?” Dis hit her knees before the boy, one hand smoothing down fly-away hair as her other hand enveloped his small ones in his lap. “Do you remember anything else about this shadow monster, Fíli?”

The dwarfling screwed his face up as he thought, jerking irritably away from the fingers of Óin, who had focused on the news that the little prince had been hit in the head. Finally, Fíli glanced up, two large tears welling up in light blue eyes.

“It was big, Mama, that’s all.”

Dis pressed a kiss to Fíli’s forehead, then gently bumped it with her own. 

“Alright, love. That’s good. Let Master Óin check your head, now, okay? We will find Kíli.”

Thorin drew the small group over to the far side of the tent, lowering his voice to keep it from little ears that were already frightened enough.

“We start by following the footprints.”

“And if that leads us to the village? You know the men won’t respond well to being accused of taking one of our children.”

Dwalin’s irritable grumble and the way he clacked his knuckledusters as he spoke made it clear what he believed the best solution would be, but Thorin shook his head.

“We try the diplomatic approach first, Dwalin. Let Balin speak with the village elders.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Glóin scowled, arms crossed, making Thorin wish for a moment that Groin, the father of Glóin and Óin, as well as the eldest surviving dwarf of the line of Durin, was with them instead of leading another group. He had more experience dealing with men than any of them.

“Then we do whatever we must. I will not abide someone stealing a child of Durin.”

“Good.” The red-head’s jaw clenched belligerently. “So long as we’re clear on that.”

*****888*****

For a long while after his body began to move again, Kíli sat huddled in the closest corner he could press himself into, wide eyes peering into the inky darkness, ears alert for the slightest sound. Every shift of settling rock made him cry out, certain that the entire cave was about to bury him alive. It was stiflingly hot, much like the worst days back on the plains where he had been born, when just moving drained what little energy he had. The air was thick and heavy with a stench that made him feel sick again.   
Finally, it was all still for a long time. The dwarfling sniffed back the mucus running from his nose, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his tunic. Uncle Thorin would not be sitting here too scared to move, he would be finding a way out! The little boy kicked irritably at the rock, gasping when a piece skittered away from his bare foot, sparking with a tiny flash of light.

Firestone!

Trembling, he scraped the floor with his hands until he found two loose pieces of rock, running his fingers over them to see if they had the grainy feel he wanted. It was just like Cousin Glóin’s game! As they travelled, the other adults had been taking turns showing the dwarflings, except Nori’s baby brother, of course, all about the world around them each evening. Kíli loved it best when Father and Uncle Vili took their turn, but Cousin Glóin was a close second. He would gather rocks as they went, then made the dwarflings close their eyes and identify them by feel around the campfire. The one who could identify the most correctly would receive an apple or some other little treat. It was even better if you could tell Cousin Glóin what the rock was used for! Firestone, or fool’s gold, was one of the best rocks to start fire with if you were stuck without flint and steel, Kíli told himself, quite proud, then slumped back. He didn’t have any wood to burn. What else would start on fire? 

His tunic! It was too hot in here, anyway. Quickly, he tried to strip the sticky cloth off over his head only to gasp, cradling his wrist as tears burned in his eyes. It hurt really, really bad! It felt funny, too, all puffed up and hot. Uncle Thorin wouldn’t be stopped by a little owie, Mister Dwalin had said so! Sticking a lip out in defiance, Kíli began to tug at the fabric, squirming as he tried to get it over his head, finally succeeding and balling it up to put carefully on the ground in front of him. Now, how to hit the two rocks together when he could only hold one…?

He grinned, remembering the little creature called a mund-key one of the traders had brought with them from the south. It had chittered and swung around the tent until Uncle Thorin yelled at the dwarf to get it down before it wrecked the whole place. The stranger had made it come down with a squishy yellow food he said came from far in the south, where he and the mund-key both lived. The little creature had settled on his shoulders and taken the food with its feet, passing it up to its hands to enjoy.  
Kíli curled his bare toes in the dirt of the floor. He could do that! It took several tries before he was able to hold on strong enough to strike the other piece of firestone into it, and once he hit his foot, making himself cry, but finally a spark leaped out, settling into the cloth. Moments later, a little flame flickered, allowing Kíli to look around his prison for the first time. 

He wished he hadn’t.

There was someone else there, a boy of men, but he wasn’t moving. Instead, he lay there staring at Kíli, and his face looked all funny, puffed up and black. The dwarfling wrinkled his nose and cocked his head, considering the other child.

“Hello? My name is Kíli. What’s yours?”

No response came, and the dwarfling finally screwed up the courage to scoot nearer, gasping and coughing as the smell grew worse. The other didn’t move. Kíli reached out one trembling hand and poked the other boy in the cheek, gasping at the cold, awful feeling of the flesh beneath his fingers. It was only then that the dwarfling realized that the boy was not breathing.

Dead! He was dead!

Kíli scooted back fast, never feeling it when one foot stepped on the small fire, putting it out as his back hit the wall. Sobs shook him as he wrapped his arms around his legs and started to scream, unable to make himself stop. He didn’t know when he finally blacked out, nor did he feel the air growing hotter and heavier in the small space. All he knew was that he would die here, alone with a dead child of men, beneath the rock that should be the refuge of his race.

Epilogue

Thorin cradled the limp form of his youngest nephew in his arms as he walked, guided by the steady light of the full moon. There was a slightly reddish tinge to it tonight, appropriate for a day when not only blood had been spilled, but they had almost lost one of their precious children. In his mind, he could not help going over the horrific events in that cursed village.

_The meeting had not been going well, accusations being shouted on all sides, when the woman and her husband had come through the door._

_“There! They have taken my child again! Thieves who must take our children because stone cannot breed! Did you think we would not know?”_

_It was the same superstitious nonsense Thorin had heard before, and he snorted, about to snap at the lady when Balin put a firm hand on his arm._

_“Nonsense, my lady. We have our own children and love them dearly. Never would we think to force such grief upon another mother. Can you not aid us in ending my own kinswoman’s tears? Kíli is but five, a mere babe, and very precious to his mother-“_

_“I am his mother!” The woman’s face was screwed up in hate as one hand shot out to point at Balin, almost poking him in the nose. “You are the accursed, hiding behind your supposed skills!”_

_She glanced around at the others and Thorin frowned, one hand resting on his sword. There was a growing atmosphere in the room that he did not care for at all. His eye caught Bofur’s where the young Broadbeam guide was standing near the door, examining a barrel left there. The hatted dwarf shook his head shortly, face grim as he, too, watched the men warily. So, Thorin was not the only one uncomfortable with the situation. The woman was still speaking._

_“You! Clem! Was it not dwarves who supposedly fixed your wagon? The one that broke a week later and fell on your brother?”_

_There was a murmur as Thorin scoffed._

_“Surely you cannot believe that we could do such a thing? Accidents happen.”_

_“Oh? Then how do you explain the traveling smith who came through early this spring? He said it was too dry, and three days later it started to rain, not stopping for almost a month! Black sorcery!”_

_“Aye, and what about my little Bella? She started havin’ fits at about that time, then she lost her baby!”_

_“My cows all did the same!”_

_The crowd fast threatening to turn into a mob as more and more misfortunes, from the petty to the more serious, were shouted out, being blamed on the dwarves. Thorin pushed Balin behind him as he began to casually sidle toward the door, hand tight about the hilt of his sword. One of the men, a large, overly muscled farmer, pushed to the front, and Thorin tensed himself to draw his weapon, only to feel one of Balin’s hands clamp down hard on his wrist._

_“Don’t, lad, there are too many of them and too few of us.”_

_The other dwarf lord whispered in his ear, which unfortunately drew the suspicions of the crowd._

_“They mean to put an evil spell on us!”_

_“Lord Thorin!” The strange voice made Thorin start to turn in attack, only to recognize it a moment later as Bofur. “We need to leave! Now! I know what’s wrong, and they’ll be no sense from’em!”_

_The Broadbeam thrust his hand around the royal dwarf and opened it to display kernels of wheat. Almost half were an unhealthy, bloated black. Balin immediately stepped forward, hands raised in supplication as he gave them a short bow._

_“We seem to have made some mistake, and beg your most humble pardon, good men. We will be taking our leave immed-“_

_“Dwarves command the stone, you must have told the rock to cave in down by the river and trap my Kalan!”_

_That last, shouted by the red-faced husband of the woman, changed everything. Like a wild thing, the woman turned on her husband, leaping onto his back with a scream of utter despair. Where she acquired the knife, Thorin could not say, but she plunged it into the man’s torso several times before anyone could move to stop her. The dwarf was not about to wait for the outcome. Turning, he pushed Balin and Bofur ahead of him and out into the hot sun of midday. Had they truly been in there for several hours?_

_“Now what?”_

_Thorin spat bitterly, kicking at a child’s ball as he passed. How could they possibly find Kíli now?_

_“Stay here a moment.”_

_Bofur told them, running off before either older dwarf could remind him that they needed to leave, now! The Broadbeam instead approached two children listlessly scratching at the dirt with a stick, talking earnestly to them. One nodded, a skinny arm pointing down a path that led out of the village. Smiling, Bofur gave the girl a pat on the head and a small wooden carving before hurrying back over to them._

_“The lass says there’s a cave near the water at the end of the path. That’s where the couple’s lad died.”_

_“You think one of them put Kíli there?”_

_Balin sounded as skeptical as Thorin felt, but the hatted dwarf shrugged._

_“’Tis worth a look. Better than fighting this whole village.”_

Thorin could never repay Bofur enough for insisting upon that seemingly small chance. One look had been all the dwarves needed to see the signs of a recent, purposely caused cave-in. Bifur had brought a contingent of the miners among them, making short work of the rock pile even in the stifling heat of the cave. And when they opened it up…

Thorin had been certain Kíli was as dead as the several weeks old corpse of the couple’s son. Lifeless, the tiny body had felt so fragile in Thorin’s rough warrior hands, then Óin had all but snatched the boy from him. The healer had taken the child right into the water of the stream, muttering all the while about heat and either ignoring or not hearing every shouted question from the bank.

Kili’s heart still beat, but the dwarfling would not wake. Thorin, Dis and Vidri had taken it in turn carrying the boy and his brother, who would not let Kíli out of his sight, through the night. They had dared not stop, wanting only to put leagues between them and the cursed little village, following the river so that they could keep wrapping Kíli in wet clothes to cool him.

Finally, as Thorin sank wearily down onto a log in the shade to take a break and eat lunch, the child stirred. Brown eyes blinked open to stare blankly up at him, and the prince was quick to brush a bit of sugar-water across the boy’s lips.

“Kíli…!”

Dis was on her knees next to him, but Thorin could not spare her or any of the other dwarves crowding around them a glance. Kíli flinched at his mother’s voice, but made no other sign of recognition, only a tongue licking at lips telling them the boy was cognizant. Hand shaking, Thorin brushed the wet cloth across Kili’s mouth again, and this time, the boy opened his lips, sucking on the cloth when it was placed there.

“Good lad. Do you want some more?”

Óin’s voice was overly loud, but none of the others seemed to notice or care. The healer handed Thorin a newly dripping cloth, both smiling when the lad gave a short nod. Silence descended, the only sounds the wind in the trees, the burble of the stream and the soft sucking of Kíli at the cloth. Dis began to gently wipe her son’s face with another cloth and he finally shifted his eyes to focus on her. A small form wormed his way past his elders until the blonde dwarfling could stand next to his brother, between Óin and Dis. Fíli reached up to gently stroke his brother’s hair.

“Kíli?”

“Fee…”

A hand reached out to be securely captured by the older boy as the older dwarves all breathed a sigh of relief at hearing the barely intelligible word. Dis laughed aloud, which quickly turned into a sob, her husband pulling her close. The little dwarfling’s face screwed up in puzzlement as he strained to look around at his elders.

“I felled outta the tree? Is Mister Dwalin mad?”

Thorin let out the breath he had been holding, eyes darting up to meet the large warrior’s as the other huffed in annoyance. The big hand he reached over to rest on the lad’s head was gentle, however.

“No, lad, I’m not mad. It used to rain dwarflings every day in Erebor! Do you remember anything else?”

“I don-“ Kíli broke off with a huge yawn. “I don’t know. My head’s all funny and mixed up! Did I shake it too hard?”

That brought laughter from all sides, a smile even stretching Thorin’s lips as the boy closed his eyes, settling back down into slumber. Óin held up a hand, and everyone quickly quieted, waiting the healer’s words.

“I think the lad will be just fine, but if he does not remember anything after falling on Dwalin, none of you are to push him! Best the lad never recall whatever he went through in that cave.”

Thorin could only pray that the wish came true, settling into an exhausted, and peaceful, slumber that night, never realizing that the incident would surface again many, many years and miles from that small village, drowning in sorrow.


End file.
